Brave Story (114 page)

Does that mean Wataru’s really going to
…?

Meena and Kee Keema watched as the column of light faded into the sky, leaving only a faint trace of an aura before it was gone completely.

“Now, children of Vision, go. Your trials await you.”

The two looked back at Wayfinder Lau, but he was already gone. He left the way he had come, suddenly, with the soft sound of wings in the night.

Chapter 53
Freedom

Even though he had been running uphill the whole way, Wataru didn’t feel tired in the least.
His breathlessness was more from excitement than exhaustion. He ran up the column of light, heading ever upward. The shining steps seemed to flow past his swiftly moving feet. Then at last he reached the top of the staircase and stepped into a wide open space.

Is this the top of the sky?

It was no less bright here than it was in the column. A luminous white mist swirled around him. He stuck out his hand and the mist clung to his fingers, sliding over his skin with a soft sensation, like touching silk in a dream.

A dome of fog hung low above his head. Looking down, he couldn’t see his own toes. When he began to walk, it was like he was crossing a shallow river, sending ripples through its surface as he took each step. He saw nothing. He was alone. This place was vast, without limits, yet a warm sense of security wrapped around him, and he could feel his pulse steady.

Suddenly, he heard the chattering of birds from somewhere high above.

—Who has come?

Wataru’s eyes widened in surprise.

—A Brave has come?

Though he hadn’t heard it then, it was just like the twittering of the birds in the forest when Wataru visited the Village of the Watchers and met Wayfinder Lau for the first time.

—Who has come?

This time the sound came from behind him. Wataru looked around and called out into the mist. “My name is Wataru. I’ve traveled Vision and gathered four gemstones. Wayfinder Lau opened the path here for me.”

Somewhere in the mist, the unseen birds began to chirp to one another.

Wataru, Wataru.

You have come far, Wataru.

He bears the Brave’s Sword.

Welcome, Wataru.

You have done well, Wataru.

Then, the mist began to clear. Wataru’s view widened.

He gasped.

He was standing at the entrance to an entirely new world up here in the sky—a city of crystal. Everything was translucent, shining with a blue radiance.

So vast, so huge. The city was crowded with building after building after building. Their eaves jostled for space, their roofs slanted, and their windows were open. It was like a giant work of art carved directly from a vein of crystal—the largest ever seen anywhere.

In front of him, far in the distance, stood a beautiful tower, poised like a slender woman against the backdrop of the blue sky. It was lofty and magnificent, appearing to have grown out of the crystalline city. Its spire was shaped like two hands clasped in prayer, pointing toward an even higher place.

Now
that’s
the Tower of Destiny.

At its very top, where the fingers met, the Goddess awaited.

For a while, Wataru stared up at the tower, forgetting even to blink. It was so beautiful he felt that even to approach it would be sacrilege, yet its elegant form beckoned to him.
Come,
it said.
Here is what you seek.

He slowly began to walk. Wataru’s image was reflected countless times in every direction in the walls of the crystal houses and in the crystal street below his feet. He walked, and his crystalline image walked together with him.

It was not long before he noticed that some of the buildings in the city were beginning to look familiar. He remembered having seen that particular shape of roof, or that particular corner.
I know these places.

That’s it! This street here is Gasara. And there, those flat, connecting roofs are from Tearsheaven.
Now that he noticed it, it was all he could see, and he began to run in his excitement.
What’s that?
Off to his right stood a cluster of huts just like the ones in the Village of the Watchers.
That warehouse with the broken, hanging rain gutter—that’s from Sono.
There was a corral from Maquiba. In the distance, he spotted a building just like the National Observatory in Lourdes, surrounded by the residences of starseers-in-training. Even the eerie form of the Triankha Hospital looked stunningly beautiful, its forbidding walls transformed into pure crystal. This magnificent city in the sky was a collection of all the towns and villages Wataru had traveled since he came to Vision, brought here, rebuilt. The only differences were that everything was made of crystal, and here, Wataru was alone.

Just walking through the city was like a reenactment of his journey. He saw himself reflected in the walls of the house from Tearsheaven. He remembered talking with the girl Sara. Next he climbed a steep street that reminded him of Sono. He could almost smell the sea in the air. And Bricklayer Street in Lyris! Here too, the doors to Fanlon’s workshop were tightly shut.

There was only one road he could actually take, and that led toward the tower. There was no risk of getting lost. Wataru walked quietly through the great crystal reproduction of his memories. The farther he walked, the deeper into the city he went, yet he never seemed any closer to the Tower of Destiny. Whenever he looked up at it, it stood alone, dominating the horizon, as far away as when he first laid eyes upon it.

He passed under a small bridge. This brought him to one of the corridor houses he had seen in Tearsheaven. He remembered his surprise when the kind mayor had led him through a house with no furniture—a house built purely for walking through.

He passed through one house, and into another, then another.
Was this the way he had gone when he visited Sara’s mother, lying ill in that hospital room?

But the place where he emerged was no hospital. It was an empty, square room. Something was there, though: a small box attached to one of the walls near the far corner. It was a bird cage, made of solid crystal.

A white bird sat upon a perch in the cage. Wataru approached, touching the cage with his finger.

The bird was about the size of a canary, without so much as a spot on its pure white wings. Its round eyes were the startling blue of the ocean.

The bird twittered and hopped over near to where Wataru’s finger was touching the cage. It was staring at him. Then it tilted its head, flapped its wings, and tried to land on Wataru’s finger.

“You want out?”

The bird chirped.
It’s answering me.

“Okay. Hang on.”

The door was held by a slender bar no larger than Wataru’s fingernail. He pushed it up with the tip of one finger, and the door swung open without a sound. The white bird took a hesitant hop out, resting briefly on top of the door. Then up it flew, going in a circle above Wataru’s head, before landing neatly on his right shoulder.

Surprised, Wataru took a step backward. The bird was practically weightless, yet it felt warm through the fabric of his shirt.

A scene unfolded in the back of Wataru’s mind. It was a vision of home. Wataru was standing in front of the haunted building. It was night. The Daimatsus were there—father and son, both. And there, sitting in a wheel chair next to them, was…

Kaori Daimatsu.

Those black eyes. Always focused on something only she could see. A beautiful girl, without words or any other link to the outside world, shining hair falling haphazardly across her smooth cheek.

Wataru blinked and the vision disappeared. The small bird was looking at him.

This white bird—could this be Kaori Daimatsu? Well, not
her
…but her soul?

“Have you been in here this whole time?” Wataru hesitantly raised a hand, stroking the bird’s little head with a finger. “Did someone trap you in this cage?” Wataru kept patting its head, and the bird closed its eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it. Kaori’s soul was taken from her body and shut away here.”

There was no wondering why. Wataru could feel the joy radiating from the tiny bird. That was enough.

“You’re coming with me. Let’s go home together.”

With the little white bird on his shoulder, Wataru began walking again. When he reached the next room, he found another cage. Inside, another bird was waiting.

This bird was as black as the one on his shoulder was white. Even its beak was black. Only its eyes burned a fiery red.

Wataru stood for a moment, thinking.
I wonder whose soul this could be?

The black bird opened its beak and croaked. Even though it was only the size of a canary, its cry sounded just like a crow’s.

A light went off in Wataru’s head.
I know who that is!
“Kenji! You’re Kenji Ishioka!”

He and his goons had surrounded Mitsuru in the haunted building—Mitsuru had summoned that creature, Balbylone—and Kenji had been left without a soul. Just like Kaori Daimatsu.

“So you were in here too.”

Wataru hurriedly opened the door to the bird cage. The black bird shot out like a bullet, flapping crazily around the room, smacking into the walls and ceiling with such force that more than a few black feathers fluttered to the ground.

“Hey, you’ll hurt yourself. Come over here,” Wataru said, offering his other shoulder. The black bird landed on his head, yanked at his hair, and made a horrible raucous cawing before finally hopping to his shoulder. “You’re a troublesome one, aren’t you.”

The bird pecked at Wataru’s ear in reply.

“Ouch! Knock it off.” Wataru laughed.
It’s Kenji, all right.
“Behave yourself, or I’m not taking you anywhere.”

The little black bird blinked dejectedly. Wataru cautiously patted it with his palm. He could feel it trembling.

Oh.
“You were scared.”

Once again, a scene from the real world unfolded in Wataru’s mind. Mitsuru stood, teeth clenched, his cheeks flushed, gazing at the dark creature he had summoned with his magic. Kenji was cowering with fear, his face as pale as ash.

“It’s okay. I’ll take you home too.”

Here, in this crystal city sprawling at the base of the Tower of Destiny, Wataru had found two souls that belonged in the real world. Now they were riding on his shoulders.

He began to walk again, passing through the buildings from Tearsheaven, until he found himself walking down a street in the residential section of Lyris. He remembered when Branch Chief Pam brought him here and how shocked he had been to see the open discrimination at work in the town.

Eventually he came to a small park. There was a bench and some potted flowers.
This must be a part of Lyris too.
Everything was made of crystal, down to the delicate blooms in the planters.

Wataru happened to glance down at his feet, and stopped.

There was a pattern there on the ground, faintly glimmering. It looked as though something hard and sharp had been carved into the smooth surface of the crystal. The more he looked at it, the clearer its outline became.

Can I go back to the real world from here?
Come to think of it, he
had
just gotten the fourth gemstone.

But he was no longer standing next to Meena with her piece of the Mirror of Truth. If he stepped on the sigil without the mirror, would it open the Corridor of Light all the same?

The white bird twittered next to his right ear. It was talking to him.

“Wait—of course. I get it.” Wataru nodded. “I can take you two home first, can’t I?”

At the end of this strange city, Mitsuru was waiting. Wataru would win—he had to win—but what if he failed? He forced himself to think about it.

Okay, then who should I go meet?
Wataru didn’t have a lot of time. Even as he was walking here, the demonkin were spreading through Vision below. He needed someone he could give the birds to without having to explain all the details, someone he could trust…

Wataru’s face brightened.
Of course. How could I have forgotten?

Katchan. My friend. My real friend in the real world. I’ll go see him!

Back in the real world, it was evening.

Katchan was upstairs in his room, sitting at his desk. He was swinging his legs back and forth. A textbook and his class notes were open in front of him, but he didn’t seem to be studying. He was staring off into space, his elbow on the table and his cheek resting in his hand.

Outside the window, the last glimmer of pinkish light twinkled in the dusky sky. The veranda was empty—his mom must have already taken in the laundry. The warm night air floated steamily through the screen.

He stepped out of the Corridor of Light directly behind Katchan. For a moment, he merely stood there, staring at his old friend’s back, the nape of his neck turned dark by the sun. He had probably been to the pool every day over summer vacation.